The Collinsport Chronicles XL: The Missing
by Maryland Rose
Summary: What is behind the disappearence of people in Collinsport? Even Barnabas has been taken, and there seens no way to stop the kinappings.
1. Chapter 1

Burke Devlin is dead, and Phillip has been restored to Vicky. In the meantime, people are disappearing, and Iris' nephew, Peter, is connected to it, as is the Faberge egg that was in the treasure that Derek and Patterson discovered..

* * *

THE MISSING

To the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo

Chapter 1

"Phillip is doing a lot better." Vicky told Barnabas as he helped unload the food truck. "But not sure what he wants to do."

"Well, it will come to him. "

"At least he is helping here. and that's a start." she hesitated for a few moments. then added. "I wanted to talk to you about... Devlin." she said his name with distaste.

"He is dead. He cannot threaten you again."

"Yes. But that's not it. I know what facing him did to you, how it brought back all that mess in 1967...I know that it twists you inside to remember it all. Maybe you'd feel better when I tell you what I found about him."

'What did you find?"

"How he made his fortune. He did some dirty work for an American company working in the Amazon. There was a small peasant community that was sitting on a place that the company wanted. So they hired him to take care of the problem. He set fire to the village. San Cristobal dos Montes. I found out more by contacting a Maryknoll missionary. There were five dead, including two children in the fire. They lost all their crops. They ended up destitute. And for that he was richly rewarded. He did more of that kind of thing for the company and accumulated enough to go into business for himself... So that's how me made his fortune and how he came to impress all of us, when he came, asking for justice for himself, he had all that in his conscience and did not care."

"Because they were not Americans. Because they were not "people like us"" he shrugged. "It has happened before. Same as with my family. We had a code of conduct how to deal with people. But that code did not extend to the slaves we transported in our ships"

"In any case, Burke was never the stalwart hero he thought himself to be. As you were not the unredeemed villain you thought yourself to be. Even at your worst, your victims had names and faces. His victims were only a bunch of illiterate peasants who stood in the way..."

Barnabas sighed. "I see."

"You know that I had Tammy and Joe find his fortune. in the safety box where he had stashed it - all in untraceable cash and gold. Tammy and Joe got their finders fee. And I have the rest. I should send it back to his heirs, but..."

"But..."

"But I'd rather give it to the people Burke harmed. They are all ill gotten gains, and the people who suffered have first claim on it.. The remainder, it can go to the heirs."

"I can see the wisdom of that."

"The heirs got it by error, as he was not dead. It belonged to him. And now I am the custodian of it, and it is up to me to see that it is spent wisely."

"Then there is the factory. I understand that they are in dire financial straits due to Burke cleaning their account."

"I will arrange for most of it to go to them, on the condition that it becomes a worker's cooperative."

"You have thought it all through."

"Yes. I have." she opened her collar "and now, I think that you are hungry."

* * *

"They haven't found Uncle Roger yet." Carolyn said, clutching the telephone against her breast. "What could have happened to him?"

"He will show up." Adam tried to reassure her. "And he is a grown man. He can take care of himself."

Carolyn's mouth twisted. Could Roger really take care of himself? Adam could not help feeling resentful at Roger's latest caper. Just then thing to make Carolyn feel guilty about her talk of committing him. By the time Roger figured out that Carolyn had learned her lesson, he'd reappear.

He had been noble about it at first, but it had been easy with Carolyn set on commitment. Now, there was a danger of Roger staying with them forever, looking for other ways of killing him..

Not to mention that Edmund had begun to be polite to him. now that Roger was not around interfering. It was hard, because Edmund had strongly bonded with Roger, and echoed his distaste of Adam... his own tendency for temper tantrums had not helped. But now Edmund looked at him more calmly, and even accepted that Adam was not fully rotten.

He wanted to bond with Edmund, as that was the only way they would be a family. And he knew how hard it could be.

Carolyn kept thinking of all the things that could happen to her uncle. He could be lost, he could be hurt, he could have been mugged... maybe he was in a hospital someplace... maybe he was dead.

* * *

Iris poured herself a drink.

She should not. She knew it, yet she did it. And she knew that what Brant had said was true. Yet she did not know how to change it.

It wasn't good for Peter, she knew that, too. But knowing made no difference. Her drinking and her sleeping around robbed Peter of the time and dedication she had to give him. She really wanted to do what was best for him. But something would not allow her to.

Maybe George was right. Maybe guilt about Violet was paralyzing her.

No, she would not think that. Why should she feel guilty about Violet? Violet had asked for it.

On and on she went. She knew it by heart, the sad broken record, and she could not stop it.

* * *

Derek packed his bags. He was going to have a real good time. He had plenty of money with him, and no need anymore to carry a coffin around. It was about time that he sought greener pastures. Collinsport had been good to him, but there was a big world out there waiting for him.

It was a pity that Patterson would not return the egg to him. But at least no one was blaming him for Patterson's disappearance.

Even without the egg he had plenty of money for himself. Yet, he would have liked to have the egg, if only to admire it. Faberge eggs were so rare...

No sense in crying over spilled milk. Or blood.

He laughed good-humoredly at himself. he had already forgotten what blood tasted like. Actually, he had stopped very early paying attention to the taste. It was always the same, with nothing else to compare it with.

Where would he go? Vegas? Atlantic City?

On the other hand, there was more to life than gambling. It surprised him to be able to think that way. Two months ago he could not have imagined such a thought. But it was true. There was more to life than dice and cards.

He had gone into the water looking for gold and precious stones, and down there, he had beheld living beings, fishes and snails that looked more precious than gold when he swam by.

He had spent a long time in the dark. Now the light had been given back to him. Why squander it in smoke filled rooms? All throws of ice look the same. And in the end you lost. Gambling was a form of self-destruction. He could see it now. He was well again, why throw it away on a green carpet?

So where could he go?

"You will come with us."

He turned. There were a man and a woman in the room. And their clothes... they were not contemporary, to say the least.

"You will follow us. You saw the egg. You handled it. You can't leave town with what you know."

Before he could ask any questions, a silvery shower fell on him and the room. The room seemed to swirl in front of his eyes. He could not focus anymore. And they took his arms, and they pointed him in the direction they wanted him to go. And he moved, and he lived his foot and stepped into... into... some woods. What were woods doing inside the room?

And there was a castle in the horizon.

"Welcome to Petofi castle" a booming voice said to him "You shall be shown your quarters and your duties."

* * *

Jessica peeled potatoes. There were too many potatoes to peel. And other vegetables, too. Her hands were becoming raw from doing this for hours. She was not even a cook. She was a scullery maid, in this big jewellike castle where fine lords and ladies disported themselves. And ate nice meals prepared by serfs toiling in the kitchen. Serfs like her..

Zeb was out, carrying wood on his back. He was bent under the weight. And no sooner had he laid one burden now, that the had to go and gather another. From sunrise to sundown. While upstairs, fine lords and ladies played their games.

Sometimes she caught sight of Roger in his jester costume. The lords and ladies of the land found Roger amusing in his madness and rewarded him with the mottled dress of the professional fool.

At other times she saw Patterson, in his livery. He, how had been a proud officer of the Law, had to bend his knee and be servile to those who ruled, to those for whom their whims were the only Law...To them he hand to curtsy and open doors.

Jessica could not believe what was happening to them. How could they be in this medieval setting? This was the Twentieth Century, was it not?

Those around her, most of the time she could not understand what they said. They did not speak English but Russian, at least that's what it sounded like.

AT one tome, someone who could speak English had come into the kitchen and told his tale. The lords and ladies were Russian aristocrats and sorcerers, who escaped the Revolution. They had reached America, but unlike other refugees, they scorned America and did not wish it to be their place of refuge. No, they had a place of refuge already set up. They had their lands, their palace, their enchanted castle, surrounded by enchanted woods. And their servants. But they could not carry as many servants as they wished, so they had begun to kidnap Americans to serve them. They were all prisoner into a jeweled egg, where they had place their enchanted land.

They had needed money in America, to set up their castle properly, and they had taken to bootlegging. But before they could finish their restoration and retire to the egg permanently, they had been attacked and their boat sunk. They had had to seek refuge in the egg, as the boat sank into the ocean. There they remained for many years, until Derek and Patterson had foolishly brought it to the surface, so that they could start kidnapping servants again.

Patterson had paid for his foolishness... As for Derek... Jessica scowled. She could imagine Derek spending money and living it up... She wished that she could kill him...

* * *

"Any news of Uncle Roger?" Carolyn asked George

"No." George sighed. "We have looked, believe me. We have looked and asked everywhere. But there is not trace. No one has seen him... He may be miles away now... Or waiting to spring a surprise on us."

"You think that he is hiding, waiting to kill Adam?"

"It is a possibility. He did shoot Adam, didn't he?"

"It was an accident. He was handling an antique pistol, and he did not know that it was loaded."

"Please, don't try to con me. I now what Roger is capable of. I will keep my eye out for him, believe me."

"Maybe it has to do with the other disappearances. Patterson also disappeared, and also the Kings"

"There is not connection that I can see. Patterson stole the Faberge egg and left town. The Kings might well be visiting family."

But as he spoke, he did not feel so sure. What if they all tied together?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Derek was pushed into the kitchen, still dazed.

"You will pluck chickens" the overseer told him "and if you don't, you'll feel the knout at your back."

Jessica grinned at that. So Derek Pearce had paid too. Let him see what he had brought. Let him see how much he liked being a bond servant for Russian aristocrats.

After the third chicken Derek dared to ask. "How did it happen?"

"We are inside the egg, the one you found on the ship. You should have left it in the water."

"That egg? Patterson did not steal it, after all?"

"Patterson is here, opening and closing doors for them. And Roger Collins had been made into a jester."

"I was in my room and then there was this silvery dust falling around me, and this man and this woman, and the room began to spin..."

"And then you stepped into the egg, and either the egg has grown, or you have shrunk, because there is plenty of room of all of us in it. And now, if you don't want to be beaten, you will pluck chickens for them, and do whatever else they set for you to do."

* * *

"Now, it is Derek who disappeared."

"Derek?" Barnabas asked.

"I paid a call on him and he was not there."

"He might have left town, now that he has struck it rich."

George shook his head. "I found his money. He would not have left it behind."

He let that sink in, then continued.

"I did not believe it at first when Carolyn said that Roger's disappearance as connected with Patterson's and the Kings', but now..."

"Patterson might well have skipped town."

"As Jason McGuire skipped town"?" George reminded him. "I know, it is a subject of which the less said the better. But you know that he did not precisely skip town.

"You think that Patterson might be dead?'

"Derek is no murderer. And with other people missing at the same time, I wonder what they might have in common."

"Derek and Patterson have the egg." George said calmly.

"And Patterson was on an anti-gay crusade, as Zeb was until recently."

"And that's all they have in common. I can't imagine what Roger might have in common with any of them."

"So we have to find the common element."

"I will ask around. Someone might have seen anything, or heard anything. You too. ask around too. Some of your sources might have the information we need. And fly around trying to overhear. Ask Julia for time off to do this. I think that this is more important. If people are disappearing for no reason, we have to stop it from happening again."

* * *

Well, Amy thought as she entered her small room, she had applied for a job at the local paper. If she was going to stay at Collinsport, she needed an income. Oriana's recommendation helped a bit. And she had written a few things that might interest the editor...

If worse came to worse, she could ask to be taken for a trial period without pay...

She was going to carve a life for herself here.

* * *

George decided to check again on the cabin where Devlin had been staying. I had been cleaned, of course, all sings of the struggle cleaned up, and anything that could be connected to the case bagged and taken to the lab.

There really should be nothing there to see. But there might be something there. Something that could explain the disappearances...

Maybe it was a spell that Devlin had set and that had not died when he did. If he could find anything to point the way.

Devlin had hated Roger. He could have had something to do with his disappearance.

But why the Kings? Why Derek and Patterson?"

So, leave Derek and Patterson out... unless Devlin coveted the treasure... hadn't the Faberge egg disappeared with both Derek and Patterson accusing each other. Let's suppose it was Devlin who took it. And then put a spell to removed those two..

And what about the Kings... how did they fit?

There could be other reasons for Derek's disappearance. Owing too much to gamblers? Not with the treasure in his possession... Running from the Mob? It has been years since Elmer Urrey's presumed death. No one could connect Derek with a long buried dead man.

So, Derek is unconnected... Burke might have hated Patterson, too... Or Patterson might have tried to blackmail him once he could no longer blackmail George.. But he would have been quicker about it...

And where did that leave the Kings?

And how could five people banish like that?

Maybe he should call Angelique and Megan. The lock that Angelique had put on him not to contact them was about to expire. And they could use the help of both of them.

In the meantime he had made phone calls to Sebastian Shaw and to Amy Jennings. Maybe they could help. Tomorrow he would meet with Sebastian... maybe bring him here to see what he could pick up.

* * *

Alma had not seen anything. Barnabas suspected it. She had been too busy worrying about Elsa to pay attention to anything else. Apart from the blood he had gained nothing by going to her. For the first time in their relationship he had found himself irritated by her chatter. All those things that hse had to talk about, and none of them of use to him. Nothing that would let him find the missing.

* * *

"What is it, Nastassia?" the elegantly attiered man asked her.

"I see danger ahead. They are asking questions, wondering where those who are missing went."

"They have questions but no answers."

"They are calling on thsoe who can. "

"Then they will have to be removed."

"There is someone called Sebastian Shaw. He has the sight. He can find about us more thatn he should."

"Then we bring him here, with the others."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"There is another one coming" Jessica said., to no one in particular.

She knew when it was done. She had felt it when Roger had come, and when Derek had come...

She wondered who it could be. Who was it that was being condemned to his lifelong servitude?

* * *

Iris accepted a drink from George. "I have been thinking about what you told me. Maybe you are right. I should try to get my life in order."

"I am no expert as to how it is done. I think that Julia would be of more help than I."

"But Julia..."

George wanted to finish the conversation. Not that he was unsympathetic to Iris' situation, but he had a mystery to unravel, and Iris could not help him any. At any other time he would be glad to give his opinion about her, and about Violet. But not now. He had an appointment with Sebastian and he did not want to be late for it. Sebastian had been skittish lately, even though he had tried to help with Phillip. Sebastian would remain in Collinsport only as long as he made money and he might still decide to leave, money or no money...

The light hit the dust on the corner. He noticed it, absentmindedly. It reflected the light, and it looked silvery instead of golden as it usually did...

He excused himself as soon as he cold. He would be glad to talk to her at another time. But now he had to meet Sebastian.

* * *

Another day, another dollar. Business could be quite good in Collinsport this time of year. Tourist season brought always new clients. That they came more out of curiosity than need to find out did not matter so much. Money was money.

There was a time when he took offense to it, that he wanted to lecture them that what he offered was real, not some sidewalk entertainment. Roxie had been sympathetic, but had explained to him that hard as it was, they could always use the money.

Well, another flock of tourists come and gone, and his pocket was better off for it.

Now he had to meet Sheriff Brant, for some problem of his. He hoped that Brant remembered to be generous...

Well, he had been in the past. And Carolyn had been more than generous, too for his part in Quentin's rescue. And Brant treated him decent, too.

Too bad that he had to see Barnabas and remember a lot of ugly stuff too...

He did not notice the silvery powder that began to fall around him...

* * *

Amy could not find Sheriff Brant at his office. She left a message that she was willing to help out in whatever he might need, and returned to work on her resume. It was rather scanty, she thought. But then the local paper could not be very choosy about the talent they hired.

She wondered what was the problem now? No more trouble for Phillip, she hoped?

Dammit, she wanted to be a reporter, not a card reader. But those emergencies kept happening and she had to respond..

* * *

"Amy Jennings." Nastassia said. "This is the other one they called for help. She reads the cards. She can learn the truth about ourselves.

"Well, she will need to be taken care of. You need a new chambermaid, right? The other one proved unsatisfactory."

"I imagine that a few weeks of working the soil would make her appreciate working for me, and she would be grateful when I took her back. But if this Amy Jennings is more satisfactory, then I might keep her."

* * *

Why had Carolyn offered the post of secretary to Phillip? Vicky wondered. Was it this way of attracting Vicky into her circle?

Carolyn probably missed Vicky. She probably missed their friendship, flawed as it was. And if Phillip worked for her, she though she had a chance to recreate it..

But she was not ready for a friendship on an equals basis. She probably did not think that a Collins could ever be the equal of the director of an adult education center. So, she had to find a way to exert superiority, by making that directors' husband a hired hand...

Carolyn had yet much to learn about friendship. She craved it. She needed it. But she did not have the hang of it.

On the other hand, Phillip needed a job. Helping out his wife did not seem like a real one... He would think that he was hired out of pity, or obligation, not because he was any good. Working for someone else would do him good. Even if that someone else was Carolyn.

Carolyn _did_ need friends, now that Roger had gone missing and she was distraught. And if she did not know how to be a friend, well, it would be up to her, Vicky, to teach her.

* * *

Amy stepped back from her writing. Maybe she should call Brant again. She was curious as to what it was this time.

She did not notice the silvery dust as it began to fall...

Break

"Now Sebastian has disappeared." George told Barnabas " I waited for him for one hour, and he did not show up. I went to his place, to give him a piece of my mind, and it was just like Derek. He had abandoned his wallet and his keys. His car was in the driveway. He had all his stuff, the astrological charts, the chakras diagrams, all of that. The only thing missing was Sebastian."

"You think that the same thing that happened to Derek and the others happened to him?"

"Yes."

"Just as he was about to help us."

"Just as... Barnabas. Amy called me earlier. Said that she wanted to help."

'You think...?"

"You fly there, it is faster. I will meet you at her place."

* * *

Amy was gone. Again she had left her purse behind and her keys. All her clothes were here, all her things. Only Amy was gone.

"She said that she would help us, and they removed her." George said.

"They? Who?"

"We do not know. But now we know that we have an enemy who will not let us have any help."

"You think that Burke is not really dead?'

"What I think..." George looked around. "What I think is that we have an enemy to deal with, and no idea how to fight back."

His eyes fell on the dust on the floor. Silvery dust.

He frowned. Where had he seen silvery dust? Yes, there had been some similar dust at Shaw's... But where else?

"We may have doomed Amy and Sebastian when we asked their help" Barnabas mused.

"We had to try."

"Do we tell Chris?"

"We should. But I wonder what he could do."

"He could go on the rampage..." Barnabas said sardonically

"I think that we better hold on telling him for a while. " he picked some of the silvery dust and put it in an envelope. "I will go check if Sebastian's place also has this dust. Then I will try to remember where else I saw it."

"And I am going to get Stokes' notes. He might have something there."

"You could get Julia to help you there..."

"I'd rather not. She has her baby to think about. If they came for her too..."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Iris did not make much of a fuss when they came to her house

"What is it?" she asked, worried "toxic waste?"

"Not this time." George reassured her.

Iris stood, looking stunned. It would not surprise her if it was toxic waste. They way they kept burying all over, hiding it, hoping that it would never come to light... she remembered well the radioactive material that Roger had dug up a few years back...

They powder was there, and George took samples of it for analysis. If the power was there, how come neither Iris nor Peter had vanished? Or if they had been, might they have been replaced by some doppelgangers? Iris reacted strangely, true. But Iris had been reacted strangely since Violet died...

Maybe he'd ask Barnabas to bite Iris and find out that way.

What about Peter who was too quiet? He went into Peter's room and found him in bed, sleeping.

That late in the day, sleeping? He lifted the covers. The boy was breathing, thankfully. But the way he was breathing... It was not normal sleep. he lifted an eyelid...

"Call an ambulance:" he told iris. "I think that he's going into a coma."

He moved away, and something in the floor caught his eye. A pretty toy. It almost looked like...

Not almost like. It was the missing Faberge egg, the one that Derek and Patterson had accused each other of stealing! They had been both innocent after all...

But how had Peter gotten it? And what did it have to do with the silvery dust and the disappearances?

He opened the egg. There were figures inside. Not the same figures he remembered seeing when Derek had opened it. There were still dancers. But there was also a jester in a motley costume.

There was a magnifying glass on the table next to Peter's bed. He used to study the new figurine.

He was shocked. He had found Roger Collins at last.

* * *

Peter was in a coma. He was not in danger. It was only that his life force was being drained. Not enough to threaten his life, but enough to rend him comatose.

Barnabas met George at the hospital, where George told him what he had found out.

"Peter had the egg. Peter might have know what happened to Patterson and the others. But in the state that he's in he cannot tell us much."

"We know enough. This jeweled toy is causing people to disappear" Barnabas opened the egg and frowned "You said that there was a jester in there, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"This is not a jester. It may be a valet. It is someone in some sort of livery."

:"Let me see."

George gave a small exclamation of surprise. "That is Patterson!"

"I guess this answers all the questions as to where they went."

'And they are draining Peter now. They might have been draining him a bit before. And Iris too. She seems so listless." And we are left with a lot of questions. How did it happen? What is this silvery dust? How can we get out people back?"

"I do not think that Peter can help us much."

"Whatever it is, what he knows we must get."

"No." Barnabas shook his head. "You are asking me to bite him, so that I can learn what he knows. I can do serious damage to him, in the state he is in."

"Not if the put the blood back. Barnabas. We need whatever scrap of information we can get."

"And if they are draining him, they can drain me through him. I'd rather do what we did with Xavier with Julia to cut off the flow."

"At this moment we need the information more."

"No. Not a child."

"Barnabas, I would not ask you if it was not so important. Call Julia, call Kenneth. Arrange for it to be done safely. But whatever scrap of information we can get, we may need."

* * *

Amy's ears burned. Nastassia had boxed them repeatedly as she went about training her in her duties as chambermaid. Nastassia could have left the training to an experienced servant, but she liked breaking recalcitrant servants.

Amy still could not understand how that could happen, how a U.S. citizen like \her could find herself reduced to slavery, in thrall to some Russian sorcerers.

Jessica had tried to explain it to her, before she was taken to serve Nastassia.

They were inside the egg, if she could believe Jessica. Those Russian aristocrats did not enjoy the U.S. where servants were so mouthy and always threatened to leave their posts. They wanted a place where servants knew their place and knew how to give good service. Where the whip could be used to make them understand when their service was less than perfect. And they had created such land, and were now recruiting servants...

* * *

Barnabas had not liked to do it. It meant hurting a child. But it needed doing, so he had done it. Also, Julia made sure that Peter was not hurt.

Peter did not talk, nor respond in any way. But Barnabas could see inside his mind.

He relived the hours that Peter had spent staring at the windowpane, seeing how the ballroom displayed itself. Dark and covered with cobwebs at first. And then one day, it was full of light, and clean, and full of life...

He did not need to ask further to know when the change had come. It had been when Derek had brought up the egg and opened it, awed to have in his hand the tsar's toy.

And he saw how Peter had looked at people and thought of how they would look in the ballroom, as a game. And then the people _were_ in the ballroom and inside the egg.. And he liked the game very much. The egg had just been there in his bedroom one day. He did not know how. He just knew that it had to be there and that he enjoyed playing with it.

It was fascinating, but Barnabas was aware of how little of value they had learned. Peter did not know how the egg operated. It just did, and it felt right to him. And that they could not use.

Wearily he pulled out of Peter's neck. He had attacked a child, and for what? To give himself the belief that he had done something useful? To keep Julia busy?"

"Evidently the egg is the entrance point for a different dimension. And the silvery powder is needed for the transition.

"Yes. And how much better off are we for knowing it?"

"Every bit of information helps. Who knows, what you did today may give us a clue we can use later on."

He stared at her, hard. "Do you really believe it, Julia?'

"We have to. It is better than giving in to despair."

"How much better?"

"We may find the answer if we keep asking questions."

"Questions to whom? You don't think that whoever is behind this went and whispered to Peter the secret of how he or she can be defeated. This is no fairy tale where the sorcerer unwisely tells of how his destruction can be accomplished."

"I am aware that it is not." she wiped the blood off his mouth. "And I also know that you are upset and why. But..."

"But, I know. We have to try and try again. And this had to be tried, if only we know that we are not going to learn much by it" he stroked Peter's forehead. "He is going to be all right, is he?"

"You did not hurt him, if that's what you ask.. But he will not be all right until we get to whoever is draining him."

"Could we do for him what we did for Xavier?"

"I am afraid that whoever is behind him might also drain you and that I might not be able to reverse the flow this time. I'd rather go over Eliot's notes to see what he has about jeweled eggs."

"I do not like you going over those notes." Barnabas frowned. "You now what they did to Amy and Sebastian. And you have a baby you are responsible for."

"I have to, We need answers."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Julia was going to attack Eliot's notes next. She had stopped at the library first to learn all she could about Faberge his eggs, and the Russian court. It was scant information, but at least it was systematically ordered, something that Eliot's notes were not.

Eliot was brilliant, maybe a genius in his field. But he had never learned to organize his notes. He left the organizing later, for when he actually wrote an article. "Why should I organize them?" he had said to her. "I always can find what I want."

And so she had to make sense of it. At least she had a list of keywords that she could use to find the relevant notes.

In Eliot's notes she had found, in passing, some references to the Sun cults...He seemed to have gathered quite a bit of information on them. No wonder that Laura had killed him and his wife. He was getting to know too much on the subject.

And there might be a connection there, because those were Easter eggs, And Easter was originally a pagan festival that celebrated the return of Spring. That is the time when the Day gained ascendancy over the Night. The triumph of the Sun..

Not much yet about Russian sorcerers. A bit about Rasputin, yes. But that was a different story. One entry about Faberge. About a cigarette case with a magical inscription on it. There was no indication that Faberge knew its meaning. He probably thought it highly decorative.

But the client... the client had been one Vassily Petofi.

Not Andreas, not Kira. Vassily Petofi.. Evidently the Petofi family was a talented one...

* * *

Barnabas picked up the phone, It was Julia at the other end..

"Barnabas, I need to look into your library. I think that there is book there that I can use."

"Julia. I could say to come, but..."

"But you do not want me involved, I know."

No, he did not. Sebastian Shaw and promised help, and they had taken him. Amy had promised help, and she too had been taken... Julia was putting herself at risk. .

"You are taking too great a risk." He said to her.

"Barnabas, there is no safety in keeping away from it. The Kings were not investigating anything, and they were taken. Same with Roger.."

"Because Peter... Peter is now unconscious."

"Barnabas, I can help, and I will."

"If they take you..."

"Then you will have to come rescue me."

* * *

Iris stood at Peter's bedside. How could she not have seen? She ought to have suspected, ought to have checked in his bedroom.

"It is my fault." she said. Peter was in a coma because of her. Same as Violet was dead because of her. She had failed here sister and her nephew...

* * *

Julia woke from her nap. She had been more tired than she knew from all her reading. She thought to rest her eyes for a few moments, and when she opened them again, the sun was shining outside..

Barnabas could not give her the book she needed. She would have to go look for it herself.

It was not a long drive to the Old House. She made a list of the things she wanted to know, and hoped to be able to find the book among the ones that Barnabas kept. Barnabas had managed to build a nice library of odd books with the years. And he might have the book that held the answers.

The name Petofi might be a clue, or it might not. There were other clues that needed chasing.

She got to the Old House and let herself in. Urien was away, and Barnabas, of course dead to the world. So it was going to be self-service.

She picked at a couple of books. Not what she wanted, but still, they might have useful information. She leafed through them.

After a few minutes she decided to take them with her, too, and resumed her search for the one book she wanted.

There was a noise of something being dragged. And metallic sound, as chains clanging against each other...

Then the noise stopped.

She shrugged and resumed her search. The book had to be there.

She found it. It was right by the lever of the secret (now not so secret) room behind which Barnabas kept his coffin.

And, she realized with a chill, that's where those sounds had come from.

She opened the door.

The coffin was gone. There were scuff marks on the floor as if something had been dragged through it.

And there was a silvery powder still silently falling over it...

* * *

"They took him away?" George wailed his question. "Just like that?"

"I heard it, but I did not recognize it for what it was. I was so absorbed, reading."

"Which might have been lucky for you, for if you'd have interfered, they might have taken you too."

George felt irritated with her, even though it was unfair. Yes, she should have paid notice, she should... should what? Fight them and be taken too? No. there was nothing she could have done to stop them. It was lucky that she had not interfered.

But still...

'How could they have known he was in it?

"He got in Peter's mind. They still have a link to Peter. They knew that there was a vampire involved, and decided to neutralize him."

"And you..."

"I do not think that they care for me. I was right there, doing research on them, and they did not care. It might well be that they despise us... normals too much to bother to neutralize us. We have no power, no way to stopping them. They will come and pluck any one of us they feel like taking, and we cannot stop them. They must be laughing at us. Now."

"Is that what you think? That we can do nothing?"

"No. There might be something in the notes to help us. And you keep saying that you can contact Angelique and Megan. Why don't you?"

"I can do it tomorrow. Angelique put a deadline on contacting her. She did not want Megan being tempted to come back and reclaim... Richard."

"Not much chance of this. But I will tell Howard to make himself scarce."

"And I will review the information Angelique gave her to contact her."

* * *

As the light died around him and consciousness returned, Barnabas was aware of some change, of something not being the way it should be.

His hands went up to the lid, to lift it, and he could not. No matter how much strength he brought to bear, the lid would not open.

"Welcome to our land." a voice said "you shall be allowed to leave your bed shortly."

"Who are you?"

"You surely know by now. You were prying in our affairs, seeking to learn about us."

With a chill, Barnabas realized where he was.

"I know so little of you.."

"Then you shall learn more."

The lid flew open and a man was standing by his side, eyeing him coldly. He gesture, and Barnabas found that he could not move.

"You cannot be trusted." the man said "Yet a use shall be found for you. I shall decide later today. Now we will make sure of it."

Chains were fixed to his wrists and ankles... the same metal that was used to restrain Richard in his prison...

Of course, this must be one of those sorcerers who enslaved vampires, the ronin that escaped, had carried the secret of those chains to restrain their own lawbreakers.

Would this man enslave him? He knew the stories of what vampires had been made to do by their masters...

They lifted him bodily out of the coffin an made him stand. The sorcerer gestured again, and he could move. A little. He could hobble as they pushed him forward.

"Come with us." the sorcerer said.

They went into the woods. The trees were living gold and jewels. He was awed by them, wondering how they could exist... but then, if they were inside the egg.

"Did Faberge make them?'

The man laughed "No, not him. But someone as skillful as he was. Only he worked for me, not the czar, thus the world did not learn of marvels which should remain secret. By the way, my name is Vassily Petofi.

"Petofi?"

"Yes. You must have met one of my relatives, I see. I think it was Andreas. He wrote interesting stuff about you. Are you the same one? The one he held prisoner?"

Barnabas did not answer. Vassily knew the answer already, and also what his relative had done to his captive.

"Why do you kidnap people?"

"We need more servants. The beautiful palace we live in does not keep itself warm, in good repair, and clean, by itself. Food does not appear cooked on our tables by magic, nor does it grow on trees."

"So you need slaves?"

"You could call them that?"

"Do you want to make me your slave too?"

"It might not be safe. But a use will be found for you."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

There was plenty to read. Julia had not lied about the disorganization of Professor Stokes' notes. Any deputy of his who made such a jumble of notes, he would fire. But Stokes had been a professor, a noted intellectual, and had to be allowed his quirks.

He felt a pang of guilt for spending so much time reading, instead of attending to his duties..

This was also part of his duties. As for the rest, he trusted his deputies to handle things. If they could not, then he would do it. Now, he was trying to solve several kidnappings.

He did not make much sense of what he read. That was not what Julia wanted. She wanted him to scan the papers quickly, looking for certain keywords, and separate those who had the keywords on them. That, and number them so that the notes that were kept apart could be read with the pages before and after...

He wondered if it did any good... well, it kept him calm, as he waited for the deadline that would let him contact Angelique.

He tried not to think what they could be doing to Barnabas. He remembered those days when he had been missing, and were it not for Ruby Tate, he'd still be strapped to that guillotine...

He would get him back again. He had to.

* * *

"Behold my throne room, Barnabas Collins." Vassily Petofi gestured around. "It is as grand and rich as the czar's"

"And what happened to the czar?"

One of the guards hit him without warning. He doubled over in pain.

"No." Vassily said to the guard. "he asked a good question."

He waited for Barnabas to straighten himself up. "The czar was foolish and lost the throne that had been for centuries in the Romanov line. I shall not be so foolish."

"The Romanov line died with Catherine the Great's husband. her son was Orlov's child."

This cost him another blow, but Vassily was not angry.

"You do not understand, do you? No, you are not used to royalty and its ways. The accident of birth is inconsequential. The descent in the Romanov line is the descent of hereditary power, not the descent of genetic material. Many times the descent has gone through channels such as Catherine the Great used. Many times there were king unable to procreate, either for a physical defect or for being unable to lie with their queens like man and woman. But the line _must_ continue. So another men would be brought in to father the heir to the throne, and allow the line to go on. It is known and understood. Catherine did her dynastic duty when she sought Orlov to continue the line. The essence is that the line continues unbroken, and that the king is not overthrown."

Catherine' husband was overthrown and murdered."

"By a close relative. It does not count. Imperial families squabble as much as commoner ones. But no doubt must be raised to the legitimacy of the ruling family's power. That's why I say that the Romanov line endured for centuries, to be smashed in 1917."

Barnabas could not help but be awed by this sophistry.

"My line shall not be overthrown. I am no fool. I rule my kingdom with an iron hand, and on one seeks to overthrow me. Time passes differently here, and I have no present need of an heir, and should I wish for one, I can get one without pressing my servants to provide it." he grinned to Barnabas. "For I do not share Cousin Andreas' inclinations. But it was not mere lust with him. There is magic power to be found in coupling with one such as you.. I coupled once with a vampire to gain power to build this kingdom. Her name was Roxanne Drew, and she never knew what she gave me... But there is another way that I can extract the power from you."

* * *

Time passed so slowly... George read again the instructions that Angelique had given him. He knew them by heart, of course.

But in never hurt to make double sure.

But time was so slow...

* * *

"You will be taken to the wheel" Vassily said to Barnabas, smiling cruelly.

"The wheel?" Something in the word made Barnabas afraid, very afraid. He was helpless, he could not stop him from doing anything he wanted with him. He recalled Andreas Petofi and how easily he had had his way... it was no different now.

"You can't be a slave. Vampires make dangerous slaves. It was the vampire slaves' revolt that destroyed much of our power centuries ago. But still a use can be made of them."

They descended long stairs, Barnabas being regularly prodded with a sharp instrument. A sword or speak of some sort. They were well below the ground, into the cellars, and the stairs kept winding down and down.

There was machinery at the bottom. It looked powerful, but it was not moving. And in the middle there was this big wheel, connected by gears to everything else.

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" Vassily spoke with pride "but it does not work, yet. There is not enough power to get it started... Now I have this power."

Barnabas understood. They would use his life force to power it.

Vassily saw that he guessed, and gloated. "you cannot escape it. Do not fight and it will go easy on you. Resist and they will enjoy punishing you for it."

They made him lie down and strapped him.. A wooden wedge was pushed between his teeth, to keep him from biting his tongue off - Vassily said.

Then they started the wheel.

"You will be glad to know that we do not need Peter anymore. We will stop draining him."

The life began to drain out of him. As he had felt when Adam was being brought to life, as it had been when Urien had been restored... But it went past that point. His muscles relaxed, and his eyes began to lose focus.

The wheel moved faster and the last of Barnabas' consciousness vanished.

"It will work." Vassily said happily "It will keep the wheel running for as long as he lives."

And that meant that the would have to be taken care of. Regular blood transfusions would have to be arranged to keep him strong. And there should be servants assigned to keep him clean and comfortable at all times, to turn him over regularly to keep him from bedsores and other ailments. To keep him healthy and make sure that his effectiveness as an energy source never dwindled.

"I will have to arrange for proper maintenance." he said to himself. "Now I have to enjoy this."

* * *

In the hospital, Peter's eyes fluttered open.

"I am hungry, Aunt Iris." he said.

* * *

Zeb kicked at the men who tried to hold him down. He kneed a couple of them in the groin and managed to hit one of them in the stomach with his fist. That was the last blow he landed. There were too many of them, and they beat him mercilessly until he submitted.

The needle was inserted in his vein ad the blood began to flow into the bottle.

"What is it for?" Zeb asked. "Why do you need it?"

A blow across the face told him that they did not want any questions from him.

He had to wait until the bottle was filled before they let him go.

He got up unsteadily and walked away. He wondered about Jessica. Had they done this to her, too? Or to any of the others? And why?

They had no right to do this. Or anything else that they did to him and the others. He knew his rights...

But he had no rights anymore. He was no longer in the U.S. dealing with Brant who was constrained by the Bill of Rights. He was a serf in the estate of an old style Russian aristocrat, and only the goodwill of his master kept the knout off his back.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Carolyn" Adam asked, a bit shakily "will you marry me?"

Carolyn looked at him, a bit sad.

"You know I can't"

"Why not? Because Roger's missing?"

"Yes, it was my fault that he ran away."

"They will find him."

She shook her head

"And even they don't. Even if... if something happened to him, will your refuse to live your life because of him?"

He knew that he was in shaky ground. She could accuse him of caring nothing for Roger, of enjoying the situation, and even worse, of engineering his disappearance. But he hated being kept hanging, as he was."

Carolyn shook her head again. "I am sorry, I just can't, now."

* * *

"Are you going to call on Angelique?"

"Yes. She is our best bet" George answered "There is only so much that you or I can do. She still has her powers and knows how to protect herself.

"We did not part friends, as I recall."

"Megan was very hurt. And Angelique did not want her to return and find Richard again. Her price for her help was this. That Megan continued to believe Richard dead."

"And we have to make sure of that."

"Well, that is not so difficult to arrange. Richard, I mean Howard, knows to make himself scarce. He did not really love her that much.. It was a highly charged emotional situation, but it was no great love. He and Frances seem happy now."

Julia seemed hesitant and George insisted. "Come on, what else can we do? Keep on reading Stokes' notes, hoping that we can find something of value? Staring at the wall and wondering what is happening to Barnabas and the others?"

"No." reluctantly, Julia agreed. "All right. How are we going to summon Angelique?"

"We need something of hers. And I have that."

"Why do we need to summon her that way? Couldn't she have given us a phone number?"

"Megan was going off the grid... Seems that is something vampires need to do on a regular basis. So, tracking them should be hard... "

It took them a couple of hours to get themselves ready but eventually they sat at the table, and George lighted a candle on top of it.

"Angelique Bouchard." George intoned solemnly "We need your help. We wish to know where you are, how you can be found. We need you by us."

Julia repeated the words.

"I summon you to come. We call you with the power of the flame. Angelique Bouchard. Miranda du Val. Angelique Duval. Angelique Rumsen. Valerie Collins. Cassandra Blair. Under whatever name you are, we summon you."

George ran his hand quickly through the flame. Once, twice, three times.

"Come to us in our hour of need."

Julia lanced George's wrist and let the blood flow freely.

George lifted his hand over the flame, letting the blood droplets fall.

"With my blood I summon thee." he said.

Julia gave him the scarf that Angelique had left behind. George let his blood fall on it and then lifted the scarf over the flame.

"Angelique, come to us. We wait for you."

* * *

Angelique felt the summons and the strength behind it. There was desperation in it.

There was trouble in Collinsport.

Megan saw this. "Anything wrong?"

"They need me, they need us in Collinsport."

"Who is summoning us?"

"I sense George... And Julia?"

"Julia? She does not want to kill me anymore?"

"I do not know."

"Well, call them, and have George tell you what's the matter. And why Barnabas isn't there with them."

* * *

"You think that it worked?" Julia asked.

"We followed the procedure, as she detailed it."

"I know we did, but it might not be enough."

"Then we'll have to try again. I am serious, Julia. We cannot do this alone. We have no power. You said it yourself. They do not think us a threat. We have no powers we can use to fight back. We have no idea of how to enter the egg, much less on how to rescue anyone in it."

She nodded.

"I think that they might be using Barnabas' life force. Peter has recovered, which means that they are no longer draining him. Nor Iris... I had to explain to her that it was not her fault. That they were controlling her... not that it did much good, I am afraid..."

"Yes."

"Which is better than what I imagined. I had this nightmare last night of him being hanged by this butcher's hook... having the hook go through his throat, tearing the windpipe out... Julia, we _have_ to do something, and our best bet is Angelique, no matter how well you and Megan get along. Or not get along."

It was then that the telephone rang.

"You need me, don't you?" Angelique said, at the other end.

"Yes." George said. "We need you desperately. All of us." he recounted feverishly the events, how they had unfolded, how Amy and Sebastian had been taken. "And now they have taken Barnabas, and we think that they are draining his life force. We need your help Will you come?"

"I..." Angelique was about to answer, but Megan took the receiver form her hand.

"She will do no such thing!" she said with asperity. "We are done with you and your problems! Get out of our lives!" And with this she slammed down the receiver.

"But Megan..." Angelique protested.

Megan shook her head. "No!" and stepped out.

Angelique followed her , into what was her, Angelique's, inner chamber. The place where she worked her strongest magic. The place which she had sealed from any prying eyes seeking her secrets.

"Megan. we have to." she insisted

"Haven't you heard what they said? Amy offered to help, and was taken. Sebastian offered to help, and was taken. Barnabas got involved and was taken. You go to Collinsport and before you know it, there is silvery dust falling and you are taken too."

"But we cannot do nothing."

"What we cannot do is broadcast that we are doing anything about it. We are not drawing any fire to ourselves. Let them everyone in Collinsport believe that we are abandoning them. Because whoever is there knows whether or not help is coming, or not. And let it be clear that no more help is coming. So, we are safe, and we can plan our moves.

"What is our next move? How can we learn anything?"

"We can get Stokes' notes. You can bring them here."

"And when Julia asks?

"Tell them that you want them for yourself. That they are too good to be wasted on her. Or rather make a copy of them and put them back. Although it might be safer for Julia if the notes completely disappear."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Hours later, Angelique held the notes in her hand.

She could not shake the feeling of guilt abut the way she had announced her theft to Julia. A cold, respective note, telling her that Julia trying to use Stokes' notes was a case of pearls before swine. She, Julia, could never use them properly.

It was not knowledge meant for mere mortals, she said. Stokes had died because of them.

But Megan was right. The more despondent Julia was the greater the likelihood that she would not be seen as a threat and would not be kidnapped.

And the angrier they were with her and Megan, the safer the two of them would be.

She wondered what was being done to Barnabas and the others. She remonstrated with herself for that. Worrying about them did not help. Acquiring knowledge would.

* * *

"What you mean, the notes disappeared?"

"Angelique took them. She left a note, telling us that she wanted them, and that we could not use them. That we were too dumb"

"She said that? She could not have meant it."

"She does." Julia sighed. "You do not remember what a bitch she used to be. You do not recall the damage she did as Cassandra."

'No worse than that damage that Barnabas did himself. I know her. She could not have said those things.

"She did. She used to be a nasty, cruel, vindictive person. She probably went back to that... We do not know what happened to her and Megan when they were away. She's thrown us over. She doest no care for us anymore."

"She would not abandon Barnabas."

"She's cured of that obsession. which means that she no longer cares what happens to him. Anymore than she cared for Sarah Collis. Or for Sam Evans. Or for any of her victims. I was there at the Dream Curse. I was there when she took David's voice away. I was there when she caused Eric Lang's heart attack. I was there when she had Elizabeth obsessing with Naomi and being buried alive.. know how nasty and cruel she can be. "

"I refuse to believe it."

Julia shrugged. "That's she way she is."

* * *

It was not right. Angelique thought, to inflict pain on people, specially people one cares about. People who call you their friend.

Yet hurt as they did, it was their only protection.

Megan stared at her, severely. Angelique better remember the dangers of breaking cover. Their enemy had to believe that they had won completely, and that they need to worry about some out of town sorceress and her vampire friend.

* * *

"Give me another." George told the bartender.

The bartender gave him a concerned look. He had been drinking too much. It was the first time he had seen him do that, and it frightened him.

"Give me another!" George demanded "I can pay for it."

"I can't do that." the man said, mildly.

"I order you to serve me another drink or I'll have you arrested."

The man shook his head.

"I am not drunk!"

"You need to go to sleep."

"Don't tell me what I need or don't need! I tell you what I need. I need some cooperation around me. But no one cares. No one will help. No one cares at all."

The bartender bit his lip nervously. He had seen it before, all those weepy drunks that began litanies on how ill-used they were by everybody, and how persecuted they felt. But he never imagined Brant.

"You don't care, either. You think that it is all right if Barnabas disappears and is never seen again. Maybe be you think that he deserves it. One less faggot to worry about."

"Why don't you go home? You should not be out like this."

George caught him by his collar and shook him. "Don't you go around telling me what I can or can't do. Not with your record. Did you think that you could keep it a secret from me? I know that you have done time and why... I can send you there again, if you don't give me another drink."

"Sheriff." the bartender pushed George's hands away. "You will go home now. and I will forget what was said here today. Do yourself a favor and don't make a scene.

"I will make a scene if I want to!"

Joe Haskell decided to intervene. He disliked seeing George like this. He took his arm. "Come George, let us go."

George pushed him away. "Who asked you?" he said irritably.

Why did they act like that? As if they did not care? Barnabas was missing. Others were missing, and they went on with their daily lives as if nothing had happened, as if they thought they would be spared themselves if they were willing to look the other way and forget those who were missing. Joe knew what the pain of it was. He had experienced it himself when Maggie was missing. But now, he could not care less. As long as he could pay his bills in time, he need not worry about anything else.

Joe came back to him. "I will take you home." he offered.

George threw a punch at him and missed. Joe delivered a karate chop which connected and dropped Brant to the floor.

"It is all right." Joe said to the bartender. "I am taking him so that he can get a good night's sleep. I don't think that he will remember any of it, or make trouble for anyone."

* * *

George woke up with a bad headache. And he did not wake up in his bed. Actually it was not a bed but a sofa in somebody's living room. He brought his eyes into focus. This was Tammy and Joe's living room. What was he doing here?

He had been in the bar, drinking and... something had happened. But he could not recall what. What had happened that had landed him on the couch in Tammy and Joe's house?

An aroma of hot coffee reached him. And warm bread. He got up and followed it, seeking for answers.

"So you are up." Joe said to him. "Do you want to join us?"

George shook his head. "What am I doing here?"

"You had one too many at the 'Blue Whale' last night. I brought you here."

George shook his head again. "I never drink to excess."

"You surely did, last night. Not only that, but got drunk and disorderly, and I had to knock you out to calm you down."

George rubbed the sore spot on the back of his neck. "You hit me? While I was uniform?"

"It was you who was drunk and threatening the bartender if he did not give you another drink."

"I did that?"

'Yes, you did."

"I understand that you were having a bad time." Tammy said, sympathetically. "Maybe that pushed you getting drunk."

He tried to deny it, but what was the use? "A bad time, that's a mild way of putting it. People are disappearing right and left, vanishing into thin air. No one knows what happens to them, no one cares. And the ones who care, Sebastian, Amy, Barnabas, they vanish too. And no one is willing to lift a finger to help. They would rather go on as if nothing was happening.

"But what can we do?" Joe asked.

'Yes, you have that excuse. Same as me. But Angelique does not have it."

"You asked her?'

"Yes, and she said that she could not be bothered, that she had better things to do than worry about insects like ourselves."

"And Megan? What does she say?" Tammy asked anxiously "She can't agree with that."

"She agrees. She does not care for us, not anymore."

"I can't believe it of her. She's..."

"A bitch, like Angelique. Face it, Tammy." Joe said. "I remember her well from 1968"

"Face it, Tammy" that was the code word that they used when they wanted to warn each other not to blow cover...

Joe thought that Megan was going undercover for this, and if that was the case, she would prefer that they helped her maintain it. She wanted all of them to think that she was cold and heartless, because that was her protection.

Of course, that might not be true. But Joe was right. If that was true, it was up to them not to blow her cover..


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"We should be able to do _something"_ Joe said, with irritation.

"But what? I hate it as much as you do. I hate feeling impotent. I hate to see George hurting. But what can we do?"

"Yeah, what can we do?"

"I am going to miss Barnabas."

'You speak of him as if he was... dead. As if you never expect to see him again."

"Do you expect to see him again?'

"No." Joe admitted. "But out of respect to George."

"Face it, Joe. Only Megan and Angelique could do it, and they do not want to. So, we have to accept what it is."

* * *

Angelique was so involved in her reading that she did not hear Megan's approach. There was so much to learn in those jumbled up notes, things that she had never suspected existed. She had done some of that, true, but she had never understood the reasons behind them..

Megan laid her hands on Angelique's shoulders. "How is it going?"

"It is fascinating. He knew a lot more than I did. yet he never used it. He could have, but he preferred to write it down instead of trying to practice it on his own."

"I knew it would be so." she bent over Angelique's throat. She had not fed yet, and Angelique would not mind.

She did not mind, and Megan wondered about the notes and the fascination they held for Angelique. She had never seen her so excited before.

* * *

The Old House was empty, deserted. Urien avoided coming back except to sleep. Barnabas' absence weighted on him. He had been away when it happened. Not that he could have stopped them, but he had not even been here.

George came in. Looked at the rooms, wondering how big it was, how much stuff that Barnabas had never gotten around to organizing or gotten rid of...

And now would not get to do it.

George sobbed. It was stronger than himself. He was helpless. For the first time in many years he was helpless and did not know what to do.

There should be a way... There should be...

But what? They did not even have Stokes' notes. And without them, they had nothing...

He would never see Barnabas again...

* * *

Angelique almost shouted with joy. At last she had found it.

Looking through Stokes' notes without her powers would have been a thankless task. She had the means of highlighting keywords so that they jumped at her, and she could pull at the notes. More importantly, she had built a "signifier" link that would make anything that was related to that particular egg jump at her.

And it did. An article about Vassily Petofi and magical jewelry.

Vassily Petofi. The Petofis were a large and troublesome family (not as troublesome as the Borgias, of course). This Vassily was no exception. He was a sorcerer in pre-Revolutionary Russia. He had employed one jeweler whose craftsmanship rivaled and even surpassed Faberge, but kept him out of the public eye. Probably bespelled so that he did not work for anyone else.

Vassily had disappeared just before the Revolution. Not emigrated. Just disappeared. And Stokes had written down a story that had reached him.: Vassily knew that bad times would be coming for such as he. He would become an exile, and he did not care for the life of an exile, even less than he liked the prospect of a Bolshevik firing squad. He would go to a country that suited him, one that he would create himself.

He had friends who would share his kingdom if they consented on becoming his subjects. They did. As for the country, that was for his bound jeweler to make. His jeweler who had created so many magical objects for him. His jeweler whose tongue had had silenced when he talked too much...

So the jeweler had created a country for him. And he peopled it with his friends as subjects, and recruited as many servants as he could. Servants were needed to keep his beautiful country running and tidy, to grow the crops, to draw the water, to keep the fires burning. To do all the tasks that were not fit for the hands of fine lords and ladies. Serfdom, which the softheaded Alexander II had abolished, would return, as it was the correct system in his view.

There was little else about that world that Vassily had created. But they had the name of the jeweler, the one who had recorded the tale that he could not speak of... Vassily had forgotten to forbid him to write. On with him gone, the jeweler could at least tell his tale.

* * *

Amy and Jessica had been given the task of keeping Barnabas' body clean and comfortable. For Vassily, Barnabas was a piece of machinery to be kept in good repair, and that involved some basic maintenance.

"What have they done to him?" Jessica asked.

"They drain off his life force to power all the machines" Amy explained. "they leave only enough to keep the body alive. And they keep him fed with blood. My blood, yours. Any blood."

Jessica looked at the bottle of blood hanging over him. She remembered Zeb's struggles when it had been his time to be bled. And it all went there, to keep the infernal machinery running.

"What would happen if we smashed the bottle?' Jessica asked.

Amy considered it. "He would not die quickly enough. We might be punished by having all our blood drained and fed to him."

"I do not want to kill him." Jessica said "but he would not want to live like this. He would not want his life force used the way it is being used."

"No, he would not want it. Anymore than we want to do what we do. But we have to. Help me turn him over to his side."

With some effort they changed Barnabas' position and began scrubbing him, removing the dirt that had accumulated on his body, and oiling the skin.

"How could they do this to him?" Amy said with bitterness "he is so strong. yet they caught him and they did this to him."

"They are stronger.." Jessica answered "there is no escaping them. And fighting them as Zeb tries to do, only gets you beaten."

"He was trying to help us. That's why they caught him. And now he helps them... If I thought I could succeed, I would kill him. Spare him this. But they will never let us try."

"I heard that they are not going to be kidnapping people for a while. Instead they will make us have babies. All of us. They are going to breed us, like animals... We will have to produce children who will be slaves, like us. More servants to them, more blood to be fed to this... machine...Yes, he would rather be dead than this way..."

It was probably true, Amy thought. A breeding program would keep the machinery running efficiently for as long as Barnabas lived (subsisted, rather) And that could be forever. Maybe she should try and kill him, anyway. It should be done with one blow, because she would not get another chance. Barnabas would certainly want that... No more being used to keep his enemies in comfort and oppress his friends...

But it could not be done easily. And maybe there were other ways.

She was still Nastassia's chambermaid, until Nastassia got tired of her. Nastassia kept some of the silvery stuff in her room. She could get some and see if she could escape with it.

She said nothing to Jessica. The less people knew of it, the better the chances for success.

* * *

Angelique had drawn the five pointed star. She had learned some things about the jeweler and there were other things she wanted to learn. She purposefully emptied her mind of any thoughts of Vassily and the egg. She was doing it for herself, to obtain more power. She focused her thoughts on a magical object that Stokes had described and which was believed lost. If some of the thoughts reached Vassily, they would not alarm him. Sorcerers look for powerful objects all the time...

There was blood mixed with the wax in the candles. Her own. What too many penny-ante devil worshippers missed was that point. They thought that the blood of infants and virgins was needed, thus indulging their sadistic impulses, but it was the sorcerer's blood that mattered. The one that represented the self-mastery that the sorcerer had achieved, before he or she went ahead and tried to master the world.

The self-mastery was the key. Few sorcerers achieved the true renunciation of self. Many just learned to postpone their pleasures, not renounce the unworthy ones. Even she... no, specially she, who in 1795 had had too much power and no self-control, thus bringing destruction to all, including herself. It would be a long time till she achieved the state when she was no longer a witch but a wise woman, such as Bathia Mapes... But she might one day.

She placed the inverted bowl in the middle of the star. Her thoughts, subject to her discipline, concentrated on the goal she had told them was to be thought in this ritual. She sprinkled power over the candles and waited for the smoke to rise.

* * *

Nastassia had been impatient with her chambermaids. They did not do her hair as she wished and she boxed their ears repeatedly. Amy had had two such blows already, but she guess that the anger was not directed at her this time, but to the other girl, a tall girl, who was too pretty for Nastassia's taste. Prettier than Nastassia herself.

Nastassia had turned to the girl and grabbed her by the hair and pulled her away to what she called the punishment closet. Soon enough the screams of the girl could be heard, along with the rhythmic blows of Nastassia's whip.

Amy knew enough about Nastassia to know that the girl would not just be beaten but would have a cheek slashed so that her beauty was marred. And no one could stop her. They were serfs, slaves. They were property, and Nastassia used her property as she saw fit.

And she had commented once on how Tammy should "get over it"... Not when she could hear stories from her parents and grandparents...It had been like it for her family...

In any case she had taken advantage of it to sweep her sleeve over the silvery dust and put some of it on her pocket.

Now, alone in her cot she brought the powder , sprinkled it on herself and waited.

...And she was not in her cot anymore. She was in a large, very large room. And a gigantic woman towered over her.

"Hello, Amy." Angelique said.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Angelique held Amy on her fingertips. She had shrunk to only a couple of inches.

But it was Amy.

"It is all right, Amy. It is me, Angelique,"

The voice resonated all around her. Amy felt Angelique's breath knock on her like the wind. But she understood what she meant. She had escaped the egg an found a friend.

Talking to her would be difficult, Angelique realized. But there had to be a way around it.

She put Amy very carefully on top of a candle stub, after hollowing a seat on the wax. Amy sat down and told her tale.

Angelique gestured and her voice muted into a whisper, while Amy's strengthened into audibility.

Amy told Angelique all she had learned since her kidnapping; and Angelique listened fascinated.

"I need help" Angelique said "Yours, if you want to give it."

Amy gulped. She wanted to help, but her experience inside the egg had made her fearful. But the choice was not her, she thought. They would know that she had escaped, and would come recapture her. And punish her for it.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Tell me all you know of the place. Everything about the people there. Or the buildings. Or... Anything. No matter how trivial.

Amy did. There was a great deal to tell. Angelique listened avidly. There _was_ something in there that could be used, but she did not find it yet. It was close. The answer _was_ to be found in the egg itself, but how to find it?"

"There is another way that you can help." she told Amy.

"What is it?"

"You can help me get inside the egg, so I can find its weakness."

"You can't They'll find you. There is no way I can hide you."

"I will be well hidden. I will be you, while you stay here, wearing my face."

Amy stared at her.

"Yes. We are going to trade places, you and I. And don't worry about being a convincing Angelique. You will be in a trance and I will use you to tell Megan what she needs to know. You shall be my contact. Are you willing?

Amy nodded "What choice do I have? I want to escape them and end their power. Anything it takes." she hesitated. "Did I tell you what they did to Barnabas?"

"Yes."

"If you cannot free him, kill him. It is better for him than to continue as he is."

"I believe that I can free him, as well as the others. Now stare at this."

It was a pearl. It looked like an enormous boulder to Amy, ready to roll over her and squash her. She stared at it.

"Look into it. Stare through it. Go through it. to the other side."

Amy stared, as Angelique commanded.

As you go through, feel how your body grows, how it changes, how your face molds itself into mine. Float through the air, through the pearl."

It was easy to do, Amy thought. She was indeed floating in the air, moving towards the pearl... going through it...

Suddenly the room was of normal size again. And there was a candle stub in front of her, with a tiny figurine seated on top of it...

Her eyes began to close, as the figurine waved her arms, sprinkled the slivery powder on herself, and was gone.

* * *

"Angelique! Angelique!" Megan shook the unconscious body ""Wake up, wake up!"

But Angelique barely responded.

"What did you do? What did you try?" Megan continued shaking her. "You fool. You've really done it this time."

With an effort Angelique opened her eyes, then closed her again. "Do not worry, Megan... it is part of the plan" she said before losing consciousness again.

"I guess you are gone into a trance, and will come back when you will come back. Well, I know what I should do. Keep you comfortable, warm, and fed. When you come out of it tell me what the plan is."

It was not, after all, the first time that Angelique had gone into a trance... But not so deep. She hoped she was able to eat food. If not, she might have to hook her to an IV.

As for the rest, she laid her down on the bed, removed her shoes and covered her with a blanket. And then she had to wait for her to tell her what she needed to know...

* * *

The trees were marvels of the jeweler's art, as Amy had told her. So was the castle itself. But the beauty of it was only skin deep. At bottom there was cruelty, exploitation, suffering...

Just as it had been in the du Pres plantation... something that Barnabas had refused to see as he courted Josette...

Well, this time Barnabas had to face it. He was now deep in the dungeons powering the infernal engines while around him people were being beaten and bled.

She had to find a way to destroy this place. If she did, it would be like destroying the plantations... What she should have been doing instead of trying to steal Josette's fiancé... She should have seen that she was not the only victim of injustice, and made common cause with all the others...

Well, it had been a missed opportunity. She knew better now...

And she would do it right now. She would find out what was needed to destroy this place, and let Megan know of it.

* * *

"I still don't feel right about it." Carolyn confessed to Adam.

"If you don't want to marry me, just say so."

"I want to marry you. It is just that..."

"It is just that you keep worrying about Roger."

"And all the others who are missing. The Kings, Patterson, Amy, Derek Pearce, Sebastian Shaw, and now Barnabas."

"I know how you feel. But what can we do? Are we expected to stop living because something happened to them? Are we supposed to hold off the wedding until they come back? You heard Sheriff Brant. It is hopeless. If he can't do anything, what can we do?"

"I don't think that we have a right to enjoy ourselves, not while that is going on."

"I know. But we have our life to live. Life cannot be denied its rights."

"I know. And in spite of it I feel guilty. I should be doing something else, something to help them, even if I don't know what. Instead, I am planning my wedding."

* * *

"We have to do something about George." Tammy said "I can't see him destroying himself as he is doing, getting drunk ever night and picking up fights. We have to do something to snap him out of it."

"The only thing we could offer him is a way to get Barnabas back, and that we cannot do." Joe sighed. "It makes me angry. I know what he is going through. It is like it was when Maggie was missing. Or when you were missing. You want to do something, and you don't even knew where to look. You want to beat up on someone, and you can't figure out who."

"I know."

"So we can do nothing to cheer George up."

"But we can't leave him like this. Come the next election he's going to be out of a job, and that will only make things worse for him. And the way he is carrying on, that is more than likely. No one wants a drunken, brawling sheriff."

"So what we can do? Do you have a suggestion?"

"There's bound someone how knows what to do."

"Angelique, but she does not want to."

"What about Julia?"

"All she had were Stokes' notes, and those are gone."

"There's got to be someone who can help. Damn it, how many people owe something or other to Barnabas? They should be willing to help now."

"But what can they do?"

"I can ask them. Some may have an idea."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Tammy was not sure what this meeting could accomplish. She had mentioned it to George, who had shrugged if off, saying that it was a waste of her time. And she suspected the same. But it grated her to be helpless, and as long as she was doing something, even something ineffectual, she felt that she had not abandoned those who were missing.

Of course, there _was_ the chance that Megan was secretly working to rescue them, and she was helping by not voicing it aloud. But she wanted to do more.

The people assembled were not very sure why they had been called, nor what they were expected to do.

"This meeting will own come to order." Tammy said.

"Does she want to play at being presiding officer? Big Bill grumbled.

"I don't need to tell you that there is a big problem with Sheriff Brant. We all have met him lately at one time or another, and his behavior must have made doubtful as to whether he can continue to provide effective law enforcement. He is slipping."

"He's slipped already." someone grumbled at the back. "You can't count on faggots."

"He has been an effective sheriff up to now. But something happened to him. To this town. People are disappearing under our noses. He wants to do something about it, but is stymied at every turn."

"Let's kick the bum out." someone else said.

"There has to be a way to stop the abductions. There has to be a way to bring back the missing."

"There is no way. Anyway, Barnabas was the last. Maybe now they will stop."

"We don't know that."

"Why would they come after us? They came after those who could threaten them like Sebastian Shaw, Amy Jennings, and Barnabas Collins, folk that we know are involved in spooky stuff. Why should they bother the rest of us? Regular folks that never bothered anyone none?" Simon Hays gestured about him "You give them trouble, they take you away. You behave yourself, keep out of the way, and they leave you alone.

"Even if we wanted to." Buffy said. "and we do want to, what can we do? We have no powers of our own. If Barnabas who is much stronger than any of us was caught, what chances do we have?"

Buffy had a small child, same as Julia. Maybe it was unfair to expect her to volunteer. But it still grated Tammy.

"Can you forget all that Barnabas has done for you, so many of you, over the years?"

"We don't forget it." Sandy said, a bit guiltily. "It is just that there is nothing that we can do."

"And anyway, that will not solve our problem." Simon Hays said. "The problem is that George Brant can no longer carry out his job."

"It is not his fault!" Tammy protested.

"Still, he can't do it. Maybe he needs a rest."

A murmur of assent came from the people. Tammy felt anger at them. They were doing to do something about George, meaning give him the boot, and look the other way about any more disappearances, because, after all, what could they be expected to do?"

"You can't do it" she protested.

"Have you called on Megan Graham?" Buffy offered.

"We did. She does not want to be involved."

"Then, if she can't do it, what can be expected of us?"

And when the vote came, Tammy knew the way it would go. They had made their decision, and they would have to live with it.

* * *

"Is it true that Megan said no?" Phillip asked Joe.

"Yes. She is not interested."

"Maybe if I talked to her..."

"We don't even know where she is."

"But if you contacted her."

"Brant contacted her through a ritual. Angelique made sure that the ritual would not work again. No one knows how to get in touch with her."

"But you must have had some idea... I mean, you worked with her all the time. You saw her papers."

Joe laughed. "You do not know how this worked, do you? This operation was a front. There were plenty of other jobs she took, jobs that we were not supposed to ask about, not allow ourselves to know. As we did not know about her other bank accounts under assumed names... You see, she was sure that she might have to get off the grid at any moment, and that means that she kept a lot secret."

"But she might have given an inkling... when she sent you the ownership papers...

"They came in an envelope, which had a return address from a P.O. box in a town ten miles from here, and stamped there, too. She was passing through on her way when she dropped the envelope.

"But there must be something."

Joe sighed. "You might as well ask your wife. Megan bankrolled her school secretly. She might have slipped something in her correspondence... Yes, you might as well start there.

* * *

"Some friend you turned out to be." George said to Tammy. "You get me a leave of absence, or sick leave, or whatever, meaning that they don't want me around anymore. And come the next election I get kicked out.

"I never meant to do that. I only wanted to find a way to help you."

"Help me how? Get me in AA or some such? Poor, poor George, what he's doing to himself. Let's be nice to him."

"It got out of control. I thought that maybe someone there would have any idea of how to get Barnabas and the others back."

"What makes you think that they had any? Or that they would want to? All they want is to look the other way, forget that the missing people ever existed, and hope that they will be spared."

"I had to do something."

"Like scheme to get my job. Maybe that's what you really want, to be the first black female sheriff of Maine."

"Damn it, George, don't you see what you are doing to yourself? You are getting drunk on a regular basis, picking up fights, letting the office run itself."

"My deputies can handle most stuff. Except for the disappearances, and that no one can handle. No one will even try. They have voted on it. They don't care about it. They are going to live their lives and look the other way. It is a closed subject. And they want me to agree and be like them? They say that if I am willing to forget that Barnabas ever existed and be happy passing out traffic tickets, then I can keep my job. It stinks."

"Maybe it does. But there is little else that can be done."

"Maybe there is something that I can do. But you can bet that I will get no help at all. Not even you. All I get from you is a pep talk, and please put it all behind you and go on living. I don't want that. I want Barnabas back and I am going to get him. With help, or without it. And your sympathy does not help me any, so spare me the lecture. And thanks for nothing."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

George shook Urien awake.

"Wake up, wake up." he insisted

"Huh?" Urien tried to focus his eyes.

"I have an idea. I think that I know how we can force them to give us back Barnabas and the others."

"Huh?" Urien was not fully awake yet.

"If I were to destroy the egg, they would not like that. If I were to try to melt it or drop it in acid. That would be a way of forcing their hand. I still got a gun with me."

Urien opened his eyes. "They might not be affected by bullets."

"Then I will use silver bullets and Holy water. I might be able to bargain for the missing people in exchange of not destroying the egg."

"It is risky"

"Yes, but it might work. Nothing else does. I will need your help to reload the guns."

"You and me against all of them?"

"I learned a few things from Angelique and I can use them."

"It is very dangerous."

"Yes. It is. But are you willing to abandon Barnabas without doing anything to help?'

"They are so strong, so powerful..."

"But not so powerful that they can't be defeated. We have to dare. We can't give up without a fight."

"But..."

"You don't care about Barnabas at all? He gave you a home, and now you refuse to help him?"

"I only said that it would not be easy."

"We have to dare!" George's eyes blazed "We got to try! We can't do any less."

Urien gulped. He wanted to refuse, to talk George out of this mad attempt, but he was ashamed to do so... Because he did care about Barnabas, and if this could bring him back... He owed everything he was to Barnabas, how could he abandon him now?

"They are cowards, each and every one." George continued "But we don't have to be. Let's show them the stuff that we are made of. God, if our forefathers had been anything like them, we would still be an English colony. But we can do better than that."

George's eyes blazed and pierced Urien, daring him to deny it, daring him to proclaim himself a coward. And Urien could nt.

He gulped. "What do I have to do?"

* * *

"He is taking it very bad." Tammy told Julia "I swear that I didn't intend the meeting to come out as it did. It got out of control."

Julia sighed. It was not up to her to criticize Tammy's actions. She herself had given up after the notes were gone. She had to admit too, that after she had seen how easily Barnabas had been taken away, she had been scared, and was thinking of Gretchen, her little daughter.

There was a time when she would have braved all dangers to come to Barnabas' aid. But that was before she had a child of her own to protect and care for.

Did having a family made cowards of people? Or did bravery come more easily to those who did not have other, conflicting responsibilities?

Perhaps if there was something that she could do, something that she could try, then she'd be doing it. But now, it was easier to just give up.

She had to think of Gretchen, who needed her mother desperately.

"What else can we do?' Tammy said, again, impotently.

"What else, indeed?"

* * *

"I hope no one asks where I got all this silver." George said. "It is for melting into bullets. Nothing else will do."

"Where did you get it?"

"Took out a bank loan. I will have to repay it later, If I am around to repay it."

"And you think that the silver will do the trick?'

"It has to."

This did not reassure Urien in the least. But he would not dream of backing out now. He owed it to Barnabas, as George had said.

A knock at the door interrupted them.

George growled. "All right, I will see how it is You keep the fire going."

It was Howard Nelson at the door.

"What do you want?" George asked harshly.

"I thought you may need help."

"You plan to give me a talk as to how I am hurting myself? I have had quite a bit of those already."

"Is it true that Megan and Angelique refused to help?"

"Yes."

"And you are going to try for it all alone."

"And what if I am?"

"That's where you need my help. I don't think that you have planned it properly. My expertise should come handy for this."

"You really want to help?" George said with surprise. "Not just lecture?"

Howard sighed. "I know how it is when people look away from what is happening. I have no right to do that. I want to be involved. I _need_ to be involved. Did you think that I would abandon you?"

"Julia did."

"Julia felt herself beaten when the notes disappeared. And she is responsible for a little baby. You can't ask her to drop her child and risk her life. The childless should not pass judgment on those who have children to protect." Howard said severely "By the way, this is too long a conversation to be held at the door. Aren't you going to invite me in?"

George invited him in, and showed him his plans.

Howard considered it. "Kind of desperate, isn't it?"

"It is all I got."

"I would like to think this through. We may need better weapons than silver bullets. Angelique left several things behind, didn't she?"

"Yes, she did."

"I would like to see what they are, and if there is something of hers that we can use." he looked at Urien. "Are you including him in this?"

"Yes."

"Will it be wise? It is not for children, you know"

"I am not a child." Urien said "And Barnabas is my father now."

"Still..."

"I have to be there. I am old enough to fight for what is right."

Howard sighed. Urien was only slightly older than he had been when he had been drawn into the maw of the Holocaust. True, he had had no choice about it, and he had grown up in a hurry... And Urien had also grown up in a hurry..."

"All right, then. It is going to be the three of us. Now let's see what Angelique left behind."

They found Kira's knife. "This may be useful " Howard remarked. They found the wax that she used to make dolls, and the some pins. They found scraps of clothing, and some incised earthenware jars.

"I think that the knife is the best we got." Howard commented. "Not only it is sharp enough to be used as a weapon, if needs be, but also it has great magical power. How did you get it?"

George told Kira's story as completely as he could. Howard nodded sagely. "Yes, it is exactly what we need."

They were determined to do it. After a couple of hours they had decided on a plan of action. Much to their surprise Frances had come to join them, insisting that she had to be on it, too. Howard had tried to convince her not to, but she had been stubborn, and he was not wholly displeased by it. He would have thought less of her if she had not volunteered, even if he shuddered when he thought of the dangers.

Urien hugged himself. A feeling of doom hung above him, and eh wanted to back off, but despised himself for it. Brant believed it would work, and so did Howard. He had to believe, too. They would get Barnabas back.

George felt a twinge of guilt about involving Urien in this. What if it failed? What would Barnabas say about putting Urien on the firing line?

But when they got him back it would not matter.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Are you ready?" George asked his companions.

They all nodded. Howard's expression was grim, as if knowing what the outcome would be, but knowing that he could not steal away. Urien was cocky, as if trying to reassure himself . And Frances was stoic. She owed much to Barnabas she could not do else than what she was doing.

They all had guns "borrowed" from the sheriff's office. I was not strictly kosher, since George had been relieved from duty, but they had them. And George had also a solder's torch. And Howard had Kira's knife.

George laid the egg on the table before him. It was a beautiful thing, and maybe it was a pity that it had to be damaged. But beautiful things merit destruction when they house evil in them.

"I should melt it down, once and for all." he said "that would mean that they could not trouble us anymore, but I still hope to get our people back. I cannot kill them that way."

He turned on the soldering iron and brought it close to the egg.. He waited as the metal began to soften under the heat.

Laughter, strong laughter, came from all around him.

"You think that this will work? You may kill the people we have." A voice taunted him.

"They are better off dead than in your power."

"Abandon this and we will spare you., but if you persist, you shall be punished for your folly."

Urien's grip tightened on his gun. Where was the voice coming from? He ached for the chance to shoot at it.

George grinned as he thought of a better idea. He opened the egg and let the flame fall on one of the dancers.

A scream of deathly pain filled the air.

"Stop that!" the voice demanded angrily, and with a bit of fear in it.

"Return to us the ones you took, then I will let you live." and with those words George turned the flame on another dancer.

"No!" the voice wailed. "Stop!"

"Will you return the missing people to us?"

"Please stop, whatever you say, but stop."

Was it going to be that easy? Howard looked around. Maybe there was somebody or something ready to leap out of nowhere at them. Frances did the same. What was that they were fighting anyway?

Silvery dust began to fall on them.

"Now you stop!" George threatened with his torch in one hand and his gun in the other.

"How else can we cross over to your world? How else can we return o you those we have taken?

George's hand tightened around the torch. Frances, Howard, and Urien had their guns ready, scanning the room for any surprise attacks... hand how much good would the guns do to them, anyway?

A man appeared in front of them "My name is Vassily Petofi. Who are you?"

"We are the ones who come to demand that you cease the terror that you have subjected us to. And that you return the following people: George Patterson, Roger Collins, Zeb King, Jessica King, Derek Pearce, Sebastian Shaw, Amy Jennings, and Barnabas Collins."

"I can return all but one of them.. I cannot return Barnabas Collins."

"Have you killed him?"

"No, he lives. And will live for many, many years."

"What... what have you done to him?" Urien asked, lifting his gun.

Vassily laughed at him "Do you pretend to threaten me with that gun, Peasants like you cannot kill a king."

"I remember what happened to Nicholas the Second." Howard said softly "And before him Louis the Sixteenth."

"I am not either of them, and you may discover it. Out of my magnanimity I can return the others, as I don't need them now that I have the vampire. But do not threaten me or you'll feel my wrath and bitterly regret taking arms against me."

George's only response to this was to turn on the soldering torch again.

Vassily paled at this action. Emboldened, Urien put the gun against his face. Yet Vassily's pallor was not of fear, but of anger.

"You dare no threaten me! You dare not threaten your King!"

"You are not our King." Frances said. "We have no Kings in this country."

Another scream of pain came from the egg. A woman this time. Howard grated his teeth. He had heard such screams too often.

"Free all of them." George said "And I will let you live. And if you don't free them, then they will be better off dead than how they are now. So the egg will be melted down."

Vassily threw his head back and laughed. "You puny beings, do you think that you can withstand my power?"

A cloud of flies rose from the egg. As they reached up they became men mounted on gargoyles.

Urien shot at Vassily, while Howard and Frances shot at the enlarging figures. Two or three of them dropped, bleeding, but there were too many of them. A net fell on them. Howard slashed at it with Kira's knife and cut through it. But another one fell, and another. His hand was caught and he was forced to drop the knife.. The nets enveloped them tightly, and in spite of the guns still being fired, they were swept up in the air, helplessly.

Vassily rose, blood welling from his arm, and holding Kira's knife. he grimaced and gestured to his minions. The guns were then gathered, as was George's torch. They now hung helpless in the air.

George now realized how futile, how useless their attempt had been. Doomed from the start. Why had they done it? Why had he dragged Urien into it?

Vassily laughed at them, cruelly.

"You will see what I have done with Barnabas Collins." he promised them.

The gargoyles rose up, carrying the net behind. Then they began to shrink, as they approached the egg. They flew into it... into a forest, a jeweled forest... in spite of his situation, George could not help being awed by the beauty of it.

"It is beautiful, is it not? A marvel of the goldsmith's art. It earned him his freedom, this marvel, but with a bond set on him so that he could never fashion another... Yes, it is a masterpiece."

"And evil masterpiece." Howard said.

Vassily struck him across the face. "Evil? Why call it evil? Because you are one of those fools who insist that slaves be given rights? What rights have they, but that of laboring for their betters, and then, if they are truly worthy, they may receive their freedom. You,, men of this age, are weak fools. And yet, in your folly, you may rejoice that many of my slaves have been released from backbreaking toil since we have harnessed the life force of the vampire to turn our machines. He lies there. in the bowels of the castle, insensible to those around him, and the machines turn. And in gratitude for his freeing them, my slaves give blood to sustain him."

George shouted in pain... He had done that. The son-of-bitch had done that to Barnabas.

A castle came into view, tall and glistening in the air.

"This is my home, where all of you shall go."

A woman was a the door, smiling broadly at the conquering hero.

"Have you captured them, Vassily?" she greeted him.

"Yes. I have. They were foolish and shall now learn to regret it."

They were chained and made to walk forward.

"Take them to the dungeons." Vassily said. "later I will decide their fate."

They dragged them down, on long dark corridors and long damp staircases, down to a small cell. They were chained together and the chain fixed to the wall. Then they locked the door and left. them in darkness.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Sleeping had been difficult for them, as they were chained so close to each other. There was some filthy straw that did not provide anything of value as a mattress, and the sanitary arrangements, if they could be called that, was a narrow ditch next to the wall.

Worse than that, for George, was the knowledge that he had dragged three other people into this, who need not have come. He could have refused Howard and Frances. And what call did he have to drag Urien into this? What would Bar4nabas say of the way he cared for the boy?

When early morning came they were fed. One big bowl of a think watery broth, which they slurped as best they could among the laughter of the guards. Then some stale bread, that they chewed on. They poured water into the ditch so that their contents were washed into a drain. Then they left, leaving them again in darkness.

"What is going to happen to us?" whispered Urien.

No one answered. No one dared to. They were caught in the grip of a power that they could not withstand and for whom pity was a foreign word.

"At least we are together." Frances said, trying to cheer herself and the others. "they could have kept us apart."

"That may come, said Howard, glumly. He had no false hopes. he knew how bad things could get. Yet once he had escaped from what seemed a hopeless situation., more than once. Could he not do so again?

If only he had insisted that Frances did not join them. Why had he been so glad, so proud of her when she did it? Was he a kid, that still believed in grand gestures?

There had to be a way out, a chance to escape. George tried to think. He could not abandon himself to guilt and despair. He had to keep trying.

If only he had not pushed Urien into volunteering, if he had not shamed him as a coward when he balked...

After what seemed hours of lying there in silence and darkness they heard steps approach. The door opened, in a flash of blinding light, and Vassily Petofi stood at the entrance of the cell.

He had a whip which he cracked as he stepped into the cell.

"Get up, slaves!" he shouted at them.

George glared at him. The whip bit into him and he almost screamed at the pain, but held himself.

"Get up!" Vassily repeated.

"I am not a slave." George answered, defiantly.

Vassily laughed. "Very, very good. Just as I expected. Big heartfelt speeches from an American, a man from the land of the free and home of the brave, one who shall never wear the chains of another, is that not true? But there are ways around it. There are ways to make you fall to your knees before me, and make you kiss my feet."

"Never!"

Howard saw this with sorrow. There was indeed such a way. Men like Vassily always found them. It was better for George to submit now, and plan to strike later. But it was a bit of wisdom that those born and raised to freedom could not understand.

They pushed a table in. There were straps in it, and tubing to the side.

George flinched. Torture. he had to expect it...

Well, if he had to endure, he would. He hoped that he had courage enough.

But they did not come for him. They came for Urien.

'Not him., bastard, not him!"

In spite of his screams and struggles, Urien was strapped to the table and gagged.

With a smile, Vassily ran his hands over Urien's neck, finally stabbing the big vein tehre, and letting teh blood flow into a colelcting bottle.

"You see, the vampire has to be fed." he explained. "and the blood has to be obtained daily. We bleed our servants regularly, but we cannot allow them to die of it, as we need their labor. This one is no slave." he poked at Urien, "so we can drain him completely. There are between ten and twelve pints in him, and they wills last a while. We will feed them to Barnabas, and when he's finished with them, he shall be informed where the blood came from.

George lunged at him, only to be stopped by his chains.

"You can't do this to him!"

"I can and I will. Do you doubt it still?"

The blood began accumulating in the bottle. It was not much, not yet, but it was flowing continuously, pushed by the frenzied beatings of Urien's heart. Soon it would be too much. Soon Urien would be death. And Barnabas would be fed that blood.

"Wait!" George shouted.

"You dare order us, slave?" the whip cut across George's face. He did not feel it. He felt the blood pumping out of Urien, slowly and inexorably. He imagined Barnabas being told that Urien had died to feed him... What would he say to Barnabas then?

He went down to his knees. "Please..." he said. "I will do all you ask. Just don't kill him."

"Kiss my feet, slave."

George did. Anything to save Urien's life, anything..."

"Will you be an obedient slave?"

"I will, master."

Vassily laughed. "You learn quickly our ways, American." he gestures to the guards, who pulled the needle out of Urien's neck.

Vassily towered over George, the whip in his had. "You will answer my questions now." he said, in a silky voice.

"As you wish, master."

"Why did you attack us as you did? You had no hope of ever winning."

"We were desperate, no one would help us, and we had to try anything."

'The sorceress Angelique denied you help, true?"

"She cares nothing for us. She even stole that which we hoped would give us weapons."

Vassily laughed. "She is smart, as you are not. Neither of you is smart, but you will learn here. Rise, slave."

George did so, reluctantly.

"I see in your eyes that you still hold foolish dreams of rebellion. You say to yourself that you did not kiss my feet for real, that I hold no rightful power over you, and that you lied when you said so. That's what you believe now. And I can punish you for such thoughts."

"Master, please." George went down on his knees again, thinking desperately of Urien and that needle so close to his neck.

"A new horse must be broken to the saddle, and a new slave must be broken to his chains. You will go to my slave tamer tonight and learn to think proper thoughts in my service. So will the others. Taken them to their cells.

Cells. Not cell. They were put in individual cells, which were smaller and cleaner than the first one. They were chained upright to the walls and left alone in the darkness, to wait, to listen to the screams of those who were handled before them.

And the screams came. Urien's. George shouted with him and pulled at his chains... What were they doing to him? Why couldn't they leave him alone?

The scrams rose in pitch, and became hysterical sobs. Pain, humiliation, fear... what was being done to the boy?

And it was his fault, all his fault. Why had he goaded Urien as he did? Why had he virtually forced him to participate in that suicide mission? Why had he been such a fool?"

The door opened and Vassily stood in the rectangle of light.

"You are a stubborn man, George Brant."

"Don't hurt the boy. I will do what you want, anything. Just don't hurt him."

"He's my slave and he is to be taught obedience, just as you will be taught."

Another scream reached them.

"What are you doing to him?"

"Me, nothing. I do not know what the slave tamer does, only that he is good at it. You will find soon enough." he leered at George. "Are you the one who lies with the vampire to satisfy unnatural lusts of the flesh?"

George did not answer. He listened to Urien's screams, wondering when they would stop.

"Answer, slave. Do you lie with the vampire and couple with him?"

George still did not answer.

"You have never been whipped, George Brant, and it is time you were. I will come back after the tamer has been with you, and then you will answer all my questions. You have no rights, here, only those I grant you, and I don't grant you the right to refuse to answer my questions. You will tell me all about your couplings with Barnabas Collins or suffer for your refusal."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

George sobbed softly as he lay on the pallet, hugging himself.

Vassily would be back soon, asking his questions. And he would answer them, promptly and meekly. Anything to keep himself from another session as he had had...

He had been broken, he knew. He was disgusted with himself for being so weak, but he knew that he had reached the end of his rope and that he would gladly crawl on his belly, kiss Vassily's feet, call him Master, and believe it, if only the tamer were not to touch him again.

Urien had been broken, too, he knew. And Frances. Maybe Howard had been stronger... but the tamer seemed to have a way of finding out what you were most afraid of, and using that against you.

When the tamer had come to him, he had known that sexual assault would be part of it. He braced himself for it, saying that it would not be so bad as it would be for a straight man, because at least he would know what to expect. But he had not expected the six guards to come in, watch, and participate, mock and abuse him while he was there helpless, bound hand and foot... His fear, his nightmare of many years. Six fag-bashers closing down on him, and he could not run, could not fight back their kicks, or their probings, their rude jokes, their pinching and abusing him, asking him, laughing if he truly liked _that_..

He would not go through that again. Never. He would go down on his knees before Vassily, answer any questions, obey him like a dog. He was not strong enough to fight back.

The door opened and Vassily was there.

"Are you an obedient slave, now?" Vassily mocked him.

"Yes, I am, Master." George said, dully.

"Tell me, what were your couplings with the vampire like?"

George began to speak in a dull, listless voice. Intimate details which he would never talk about, things that were no one's business but his and Barnabas'. All of it. And as he spoke a dark relief came over him. He was confessing, letting all hang out. There would be no more secrets for him now.

Vassily seemed satisfied. "I guess you are broken, now, and will do whatever is asked of you."

"I will Master."

"My first command is that you lay with this woman here, so that you beget children by her."

"I can't Master. I have never laid with a woman. I never will."

"It is not so different from laying with a man. And it is her or the tamer again."

They pushed her into the cell. With the light behind her, he could not recognize her.

He swallowed. How could he lay with a woman? It was impossible... "I shall try to obey you, Master. I will do my best."

"Do not try. Do it."

He recognized her now. Amy Jennings. It was a shock, but one that barely registered. He was to lie with her, attempt to couple with her till she became pregnant by his efforts. And what of the children that resulted? Why did Vassily want them? More slaves for him to lord over? More sources of blood for Barnabas?

And yet he could not make himself care for it. The memory of what had been done to him, of what could be done again if he balked, prodded him. Whatever Vassily wanted, he would do, because Vassily had all the power and he had none.

Amy approached the cot silently, and George laid himself down, making space next to him to receive her.

Amy took off her clothes and laid herself next to him.

He would have to do it. He bit his lips. How? Close his eyes and pretend that it was Barnabas?...

Amy put her hand on his chest, drawing nearer.

He had to gather up his courage. Do it, or worse would happen, not only for himself, but for her.

"What do I do?" he whispered to her. "I will try, but I can't"

"Just let me do." she reassured him.

Angelique knew what he was going through. In a couple of days he might regain his balance and she might be able to tell him her secret, but not today, when still shaking from his ordeal. He might well betray her, even without meaning to. She had to be Amy Jennings for him now, and for several nights more till he was safe to confide in, and they could plot an escape together.

"Close your eyes." she told him. "I will do the rest."

Gratefully he did that. "Thanks." he whispered, turning his face away, so that he could weep silently for what had been done to him while his body complied with the duty that it had been assigned to it.

If a child resulted from this... When the child came, it would grow up to be a slave, like its parents. Maybe one day he would be ordered to lie down and beget children, as his father was doing now.

He was condemning his child to this... and he could not stop it. There was no hope for him, nor for Amy, nor for their child.

* * *

Will Megan and Angelique be able to rescue all of them?

Stay tuned


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